Rose petals in the wind
by public static void
Summary: Her laughter can make him forget (for an instant) the evil man he is.


For the Movie Madness! Week One: **So Fetch** , at **The Golden Snitch**.

Prompt: (Janis Ian) Write about a character who is evil and knows it.

Word count: 1199 words.

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Diagon Alley has never been a battlefield. The narrow streets are paved with beautiful stone and adorned with small gardens here and there. He has heard some people call Diagon Alley as the perfect place for a muggleborn to experience magic for the first time without the overwhelming feel of Hogwarts.

Rabastan likes Diagon Alley until he hears that. From then, he thinks of the place as the bridge that gaps the chasm between purity and filth.

Today, Rabastan is here to detonate that bridge and send the rubble to the other side, where it can metaphorically crush those fighting against magic, in favour of those of lesser blood.

"Rabastan? Is that really you?"

He knows who it is before he turns to see her, even if it's been years since the last time they spoke.

She looks the same; young, ethereal. Sublime, with her curls framing a heart–shaped face. Though Rabastan immediately seeks her lips. How he misses the loving touch from them.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Andromeda," he says as gallantly as he can. She is the one woman who can make him forget that which he worships. The smell of decay, the sound of battle and the sight of spells clashing are nothing against the purity of her smile.

And she smiles when he takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. Her perfume is the same, he discovers —a hint of jasmine and the smell of summer rain.

"Where would I be? Ted's at work and I had nothing to do at home," she tells a bit hastily, playing with her hair in the same manner he remembers from their Hogwarts days. "Besides, nothing can prevent me from coming to the Alley. Not my Aunt with her irritability, and definitely not a war."

A war, Rabastan remembers. He clears his throat and looks away. At the far end of the Alley, meters before the crossing with Vertical Street, Rosier is waiting for him.

"A war can be dangerous, Andromeda," he says, straining his voice with the need to yell at her to go away while she can. She's an enemy and won't be pardoned unless she begs.

Rabastan knows Andy. She's the childhood friend, the teenage crush and the rebellious lover who merge in the same person: someone who won't hold back and who will fight if needed.

It isn't needed (yet) and that's how Rabastan wants it to be.

He extends his arm to her and she takes it, smiling pleasantly.

"I'm not worried," she says. Rabastan can hear the truth in the honesty of her voice. When Andy lies she looks at her feet and right now she's staring at him warmly. Rabastan might even forget where and when he is because the touch of her hand is enough to bring him back to their times at Hogwarts, when they play at being lovers long before the war hits them and their castle in the clouds comes crumbling down. "You're not listening to me."

He blinks, focusing on Dolohov, hidden from Andy's view. He also realises he's been ignoring her, thinking back to all that he has given up in favour of following the Dark Lord.

"Sorry, Andy," he tells her, stopping in front of the bookshop. "I was distracted by your presence, but won't you let me distract you with books?"

She is laughing at his words, just like Rabastan remembers. Her laughter is like rose petals in the wind, drifting to any place where they might bring happiness. He looks at her and wants to freeze time and never let this moment pass by. He loves Andromeda like he loves no one else, nothing else.

"Always the gentleman," she says and lets herself be guided into the store.

Her steps are graceful as she goes in. She's almost silent. He almost doesn't speak.

"I'm sorry, Andromeda," he says and closes the door behind her. It's glass, so he can see the betrayal in her face when she turns around and tries to open the door. "You were always rubbish at warding, my dear."

She's hitting the door with her hand, enraged and yelling what must be curses directed at him. The rest of the clients inside notice what's going on and try to help her with hands and strength. They won't be able to exit the store: his spells are too strong for them.

The people passing by stop to see what's going on. He turns around, but it's not his face what meets him. His silver mask is in its place. He's a Death Eater who is about to follow his Master's orders.

Others do it because they have to, Rabastan reflects as he points his wand towards the sky and whispers a single spell. The green serpent flows from his wand to the skies. Rabastan does this because he wants to.

Rabastan fights with a purpose: to put an end to the impurity and the stupidity of mudbloods, and to kill whoever crosses his path.

He glances at Rosier, who fights one of the Order's witches. She is nothing and he is magic's might made flesh; a pureblood of an ancient line. He shoots a killing curse and the fear in her eyes as she realises it makes Rabastan shiver with pleasure. That's what he likes to see. That reaction (the second she freezes, the shaking wand hand, the dilating pupils as they reflect the green of her death) is what Rabastan needs. That's why he's here; to thrive in chaos as the Dark Lord does.

More Order members arrive and Rabastan twirls his wand in his hand; it's vibrating with adrenaline.

But the fight is cut short when Dumbledore arrives.

Rabastan doesn't mind. The old man is wise and wants to keep his people alive; he admires him for doing it. Rabastan isn't ashamed to say he admires Dumbledore for putting his people before his ultimate goal. It's not the sense of chivalry what prompts the Death Eaters to cease attacking; it's tactics.

As long as there's another day to keep fighting; another day to keep killing and spilling traitorous blood, all will be alright.

"Let's get out of here," Rosier grins. "Unless you want to stay and fight."

Dolohov grunt and shoots a purple curse to an Order wizard. They watch as he falls to the ground, alive but trapped inside his own mind.

"We're done for today. We finished our mission," Rabastan tells them and, as one, they apparate away.

He goes to his Lord first and thinks of Andromeda until much later when the adrenaline has passed and he lays on his bed to rest.

There is a subtle ache in his bones. Weariness. He is exhausted.

So, he only spares a single thought for her.

"Sorry, Andromeda. I love you and always will, but you don't deserve evil in your life."

He sleeps and doesn't dream.


End file.
